Rewriting the Story after divorce???

Matt's Take: Where Do I Go Next?

It’s funny how easy it is to get attached to the story of who we were in our past relationships. It starts innocently enough—you meet someone, fall in love, and soon, you’re building an entire narrative around the two of you. I was certain our story led to a happy ending (not in a massage parlor). I thought I had our entire future mapped out… I didn’t. Instead of happily-ever-after, I’ve got this chapter I can’t shake—One where our love story devolved into a murky mix of betrayal and awkward family events that could have been prime material for an episode of “Real Housewives.”

For the longest time, letting go of that story felt impossible. It wasn’t just losing my ex or the end of a marriage; it was losing this whole identity I’d built as her partner, friend, and what I thought was everything she ever needed. I held onto it like some old relic of a life I’d convinced myself was the life, the one that would stand the test of time. Except, well, we tested time and barely made it a decade. And if I’m being honest, betrayal has a funny way of ripping the story right out of your hands, as if it’s saying, “You thought you were in control of this plot? Think again.”

Why do we hold onto these stories? What is it that keeps us wanting to suffer through the pain that it caused? They’re like my favorite pair of New Balances— no soles left and a few holes, but somehow, I just can’t fucking throw them away. I want to, but I can’t. They hold so many memories, good ones and bad, and they just keep showing up and I shove them back in the closet.

Letting go feels like a risk, as if releasing these stories might erase part of us, even though we know, deep down, they’re just a chapter of a much bigger book and that chapter needs to be shoved back in the closet.

For me, my story kept replaying, like a kick in the nuts reminding me that so much of it was fiction, so much of it was an illusion. The times I thought we had “fixed” everything and were good now. “Maybe if I just love her a little more, everything will be okay…” Or when I convinced myself that her request for more “freedom” in our marriage was really about “growing together.” I somehow turned into the guy who thought “adapting” meant bending until I broke and thinking that was the recipe for happy marriage. Happy wife, happy life, right? Who woulda thunk it… it was a recipe for disaster.

The story became a way to remind myself of everything I missed, every red flag I ignored. In some strange way, keeping it around felt like keeping the old pair of shoes around, even if they were really just a painful reminder of a version of me that I’d outgrown.

If I could rewrite parts of this story, I would add some upgrades to myself. The new version would have learned to set some boundaries earlier or maybe trusted his gut. Maybe, I’d have realized sooner that love isn’t supposed to feel like you’re constantly auditioning for a role you already have.

Rewriting the story isn’t about changing the past; it’s about moving forward with a new chapter. Now, I have a partner who lets me be the real me. I no longer feel like I’m walking on eggshells, trying to meet some unspoken standard. Ashlee just gets it. She gets me. It’s refreshing to build a story with someone who’s on the same page. Of course there are some bumps along the way, but I like to think we have the same destination and hopefully a lot less plot twists.

At the end of the day, owning your story is like putting a rough first draft on the shelf. It’s not perfect, and there’s a lot you’d probably change, but it’s finished. You don’t need to go back to it.

Now, I’m less focused on the story I lost and now focused on the one I’m writing. All the little things every day remind me that my story isn’t something I’m stuck with; it’s something I get to grow from. I get to show up now as a person who learned some hard lessons, and yeah, maybe I learned them the hard way, but I still came out better on the other side.

So what do you do with “the story”? You give it a place on the shelf, acknowledge it as just a chapter, and move on with the rest of the book. If you’re holding onto a story that’s way past its expiration date, maybe it’s time to turn the page. Because trust me—the next chapter? It’s a hell of a lot sexier, and she’s a lot funnier, too.

Book Suggestions to help with your journey and rewriting your story:

- The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle. This book delves into how clinging to past identities and stories keeps us trapped in pain and hinders personal growth. Tolle’s insights on mindfulness and releasing attachment to past narratives can help emphasize how redefining the self in the present is a powerful step toward healing. https://a.co/d/fOUuxf1

- Rising Strong by Brené Brown. This book focuses on resilience and rewriting our stories after setbacks. Brown’s concept of “rumbling with our story” can help frame a discussion on working through difficult emotions and coming out stronger, with a sense of authorship over our own lives. https://a.co/d/77yGFXE